A Different Kind Of Christmas

Discussion in 'Vintage Topic Archive (Sept - 2009)' started by SHOOTER Z, Nov 30, 2007.


    SHOOTER Z Well-Known Member

    At this time of year [And we really should be thinking of them all year long] I am reminded of this poem

    A Different Kind Of Christmas

    T’was the night before Christmas he lived all alone, in a one bedroom house, made of plaster and stone.
    I had come down the chimney with presents to give and to see just who in this home did live.

    I looked all about and a strange sight did I see, no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
    No stocking by the mantle, Just boots filled with sand, on the wall hung pictures, of far distant lands.

    With medals and badges, awards of all kinds, a sober thought, came through my mind.
    For this house was different. It was dark and dreary; I found the home of a soldier, once I could see clearly.
    The soldier lay sleeping, silent, alone, curled up on the floor, in this one bedroom home.

    The face was so gentle, the room in such disorder, not how I pictured, A Canadian soldier
    Was this the Hero, of whom I’d just read? Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed?
    I realized the families that I saw that night owed their lives to these soldiers who were willing to fight.
    Soon round the world the children would play, and the grown-ups would celebrate, a bright Christmas day.
    They all enjoyed freedom each month of the year because of the soldiers like the one lying here.
    I couldn’t help wonder, how many lay alone on a cold Christmas Eve in a land far away from home.

    The very thought brought a tear to my eye I dropped to my knees, and started to cry,
    The soldier awakened, and I heard a rough voice,†Santa, Don’t cry, this life is my choice. I fight for freedom, I don’t ask for more my life is My God, My Country, My Corps.â€

    The soldier rolled over and drifted to sleep I couldn’t control it, I continued to weep.
    I watched for hours, so silent and still, and we both shivered, from the cold nights chill.
    I didn’t want to leave, on that cold dark night, this guardian of honour, so willing to fight.

    Then the soldier rolled over, with a voice soft and pure whispered, “Carry on Santa it’s Christmas Day, all is secure.†One look at my watch and I knew he was right “Merry Christmas my friend and to all a good nightâ€

    To all out service personal past present and future God bless you all
  2. ..........HOOAH................

  3. Thanks for the post !!
    I get all misty every year that I read it .